Read Online Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy) by Ron Foster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ron Foster
Tags: Fiction, Survival, 2012, post apocalyptic, End of the world, survivor, survivalist, teotwawki, prepper, shtf, preppers, lake, EMP, preparedness, solar storm, retreat, electromagnetic pulse
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the prospect” I said while not burning any bridges.
“Sure, just want you to consider it” he said forgiving an outright refusal of hospitality and possible stupidity on my part.
“We got a long road up ahead, Dump, all options are on the table, and I am thankful for your generosity, but I got folks needing me that are on my mind.” I said wistfully.
“Understood.” is all he said.
We all contemplated the fire light in silence for a bit, and the possible or improbable need to smother this soothing fire at the moment.
“Dump, can we go country route from here and get off the main drag?” I said, considering what I needed to explain next.
“Oh yeah, I been thinking about that, we can get off at the, uh, I think next or the one after that exit to head in my direction, but it’s out of the way for you.” he said studying me.
“I have some worries what an exit is going to look like off this maze.” I declared, thinking about my next statement before I carried on. “It’s going to look like a rock concert or a flash mob as folks wander in, and overwhelm what ever resources might be there” I suggested.
Stewart considered this possibility and its ramifications for a moment. ”David, what do you think the world trade center downtown Atlanta is going to look like come next week”? He said cautiously.
“Going to be hell, Stewart, every foreigner from every country is going to try to make their way there that got stranded in the city or highway.” I let that sink in for a moment.
“Stewart, not to alarm you, but make you aware; people that are different from mainstream in society start to get hated for whatever reason, after a disaster if recovery is not quick.” I said sympathetically, but directly.
“Shit, I am no better than a Paki blighter in this town, then.” Stewart said, thinking about his colonial roots and problems caused in his own cites. He went on further, looking off in the distance, as he could envision Koreans, Chinese, Spanish, Japanese, Pakistanis, etc. all converging on one spot in a myriad of languages and confusion and being set upon by the locals, like this was somehow their fault or that they were not worthy of the same respect as humans as those that had more historic roots in the area.
“Dump, could you, I mean, would you give me your address in case I need to, what did you call it Dave, “Bug out” if it gets too bad?” Stewart said pleadingly.
“No problem, welcome to the Dumpie clan, if you need too, oops Tribe, right David?” He said extending his oversize mitt in Stewart’s direction, which was received and shook heartily.
“Let me find a bit of paper and pencil.’ Stewart said, while rummaging in his luggage.
“David, I got an old spinster cousin on the outskirts of Newnan. We should be able to make it to in a day or so, if we going the back way. “Dump said speculatively.
“A rest and a friendly face a day or two from now, might just be exactly what we need to recharge our batteries, my friend.” I said in agreement.
“Stewart, I’ll draw you map, or better yet, we find a regular road map in the morning and I will mark a route out.” Dump said turning towards the older Brit and grabbing another can of suds.
Almost simultaneously, Stewart and I said we had maps from today’s treasure hunt.
“You know that’s kind of dumb of me not to pick one up, just because I knew where I was headed.” Dump said a bit apologetically.
“Gotta think ahead. Right, Dave? Home may be where the map tells you, not your senses, I think you said.” He said eying the cans of soup sitting on the ground in front of him.
“Always have an alternate route and be ready with a detour at the worst possible moment is a plan indeed Dumpy.” I replied while digging out my key ring.
“You know how to use a P38 Truck”? I inquired producing one and handing it over for his inspection.
“Heard of them but never played with one” he replied unfolding the tiny can opener
“Sure, just want you to consider it” he said forgiving an outright refusal of hospitality and possible stupidity on my part.
“We got a long road up ahead, Dump, all options are on the table, and I am thankful for your generosity, but I got folks needing me that are on my mind.” I said wistfully.
“Understood.” is all he said.
We all contemplated the fire light in silence for a bit, and the possible or improbable need to smother this soothing fire at the moment.
“Dump, can we go country route from here and get off the main drag?” I said, considering what I needed to explain next.
“Oh yeah, I been thinking about that, we can get off at the, uh, I think next or the one after that exit to head in my direction, but it’s out of the way for you.” he said studying me.
“I have some worries what an exit is going to look like off this maze.” I declared, thinking about my next statement before I carried on. “It’s going to look like a rock concert or a flash mob as folks wander in, and overwhelm what ever resources might be there” I suggested.
Stewart considered this possibility and its ramifications for a moment. ”David, what do you think the world trade center downtown Atlanta is going to look like come next week”? He said cautiously.
“Going to be hell, Stewart, every foreigner from every country is going to try to make their way there that got stranded in the city or highway.” I let that sink in for a moment.
“Stewart, not to alarm you, but make you aware; people that are different from mainstream in society start to get hated for whatever reason, after a disaster if recovery is not quick.” I said sympathetically, but directly.
“Shit, I am no better than a Paki blighter in this town, then.” Stewart said, thinking about his colonial roots and problems caused in his own cites. He went on further, looking off in the distance, as he could envision Koreans, Chinese, Spanish, Japanese, Pakistanis, etc. all converging on one spot in a myriad of languages and confusion and being set upon by the locals, like this was somehow their fault or that they were not worthy of the same respect as humans as those that had more historic roots in the area.
“Dump, could you, I mean, would you give me your address in case I need to, what did you call it Dave, “Bug out” if it gets too bad?” Stewart said pleadingly.
“No problem, welcome to the Dumpie clan, if you need too, oops Tribe, right David?” He said extending his oversize mitt in Stewart’s direction, which was received and shook heartily.
“Let me find a bit of paper and pencil.’ Stewart said, while rummaging in his luggage.
“David, I got an old spinster cousin on the outskirts of Newnan. We should be able to make it to in a day or so, if we going the back way. “Dump said speculatively.
“A rest and a friendly face a day or two from now, might just be exactly what we need to recharge our batteries, my friend.” I said in agreement.
“Stewart, I’ll draw you map, or better yet, we find a regular road map in the morning and I will mark a route out.” Dump said turning towards the older Brit and grabbing another can of suds.
Almost simultaneously, Stewart and I said we had maps from today’s treasure hunt.
“You know that’s kind of dumb of me not to pick one up, just because I knew where I was headed.” Dump said a bit apologetically.
“Gotta think ahead. Right, Dave? Home may be where the map tells you, not your senses, I think you said.” He said eying the cans of soup sitting on the ground in front of him.
“Always have an alternate route and be ready with a detour at the worst possible moment is a plan indeed Dumpy.” I replied while digging out my key ring.
“You know how to use a P38 Truck”? I inquired producing one and handing it over for his inspection.
“Heard of them but never played with one” he replied unfolding the tiny can opener
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